Category Archives: Poetry

Solitude Serves Me Well

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before is the bird’s
song and the occasional
car passing by

then the refrigerator
freezing while shaking
the hot water boiler

or an airplane
far away the mailman
comes dropping

volumes of papers
we need to lift glance
at a minute then dispose

that’s how days roll
away how solitude
serves me well

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This poem is from the California Notebook collection, available in paper book and digital format.

The Look My Soul Has

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in between loving cats
and feeding elders
roaming paths

it was the caressing
with my eyes of the olive
trees barks twisted by

the winds and the lack
of water – is that the look
my soul has – she had no

idea life was business
to attend same the church
and the cats and the elderly

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This poem is part of the collection Not Rosaries Nor Missals.

I Dare To Hope April Is The Cruelest

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I knew the hardest

was not being locked in

but the coming out

the count of the missing

ones their blinders

down as you take your

long missed stroll
.

that time has not arrived yet
.

but the count has

started once you get time

at hand the socials

platforms open up some

profiles have black

some tears and weeping

so far is two at day
.

way too high the number

of my friends who are no more

we are still on lock down
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April is the cruelest month

I dare to strongly hope

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Sunny Awakenings

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was dreaming of

sunny awakenings

sweet cuddling and words

few – tight together

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was getting out to say

good morning – gratitude

will not fail me

a smile in spite

of everything

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I will hold

happiness

between

my hands

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A Place To Be

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a place where

is no expectations
from others to be

some kind of perfect
god under sunshine

to relax where

everything in its
natural beauty lines up

me not too big
nor too small

for some people

doors where
my key wasn’t fitting

may be one
of my crazy dreams
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Reverberations, Unpublished, 2013.

Well Defined

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I will walk away from
the crowds and their buzz
finding an island to float serene
on way away from cravings
looks and strong odors
to my own shadow
well defined

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Poem from the unpublished collection Intertextures – Crossing Rivieras, 2013.

 

An Upside Down World

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tonight
the moon is full

emptied from a thousand
engagements I lay in hot
water maybe illuminated

from the sky the silence
repose approaching
hidden from light

an upside down world
a somersault and a wriggle to

find myself wondering star under
inside some lights I turn off
before the thoughts – then the eyes

slightly vibrating
weightless in the space
I found within

 

 

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Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep…

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it is right by the side
of the road the Cathedral
In The Pines Cemetery

as if you could just roll
off the side of the road
dead and ready to lay

where there are no fences
but some more noise to
endure or is it a reminder

when the sun hides
at sunset behind red
blood colored clouds

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Running Uphill – The London Hours

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I will close this page
and put it away

I will have a look
at such light
lingering

I will stand eventually

get up and displace
myself in a busy store
drunk in sounds and souls

I will pick you up
later when this
wind ceases

one more time
running uphill

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From the collection “The London Hours”, 2012.

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Give Shapes To Music

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my favorite occupation
has been that of
listening to silence

to give shapes
to music singing
with my hands

on top of the colors
that lay already there
to tiptoe in-love

slowing down
my responses
to evade darkness

into the beauty held
inside as the harmony
viable all around

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Poem from California Notebooks 01

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How Often We Forget

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how often we forget
it is us revolving
around the sun

we sit contemplating
in our living room
the shadows changing

how often we forget
we are mirrors
of others attitudes

we point the finger
pick up a part to act
just impersonating

how often we forget
to simply be a simple
word being thank you

no chats about the sun
moving raising setting
telling ourselves truths

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This poem is included in the bilingual collection California Notebooks 01. Click on the title for info.

 

Eyes Wide Open

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we are here
softly abandoned

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glaring at the shadow of
an airplane on the ground

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one of those luminous day
where every detail is out

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for count and thanksgiving
following a time dark as

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the night upon which we
both struggled with

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eyes wide open to
no avail in fear

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On Writing

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I load on beauty
between silences
those of plants and
lack of rain

these shivering
when reefers come
are not gossip or loud
news they are stanzas

needing spaces
in between needing
solid whites an invisible
bench to sit on

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This poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 02

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Time

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time leaving
traces everywhere
victims never
to be avenged

time cannot
be hold it can
be classified
never arrested

and if doing some
serious thinking
we last but the
length of a breath

time shows itself
and swiftly go

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This poem is part of the bilingual poetry collection California Notebooks 01  on sale on Amazon.

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